


Left in the Cold

by ideserveyou



Category: Arthur of the Britons
Genre: Angst, Eavesdropping, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:51:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideserveyou/pseuds/ideserveyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Celtic Games, Rowena's being kept waiting by Arthur, and she's not happy about it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left in the Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to trepkos for merciless beta-reading. This story is aptly titled, since it was intended to be a multiple-chapter effort, but I never finished it...

| Rowena is leaning against the bridge-railing, staring at the river running black in the chill moonlight.  
  
Barth of Cornwall steps softly up to stand beside her. ‘I hope I am not the cause of your unhappy face.’  
  
  
  
She starts, and her hand flies to her dagger-hilt; then she lowers it again, slowly.  
  
‘Not you.’ She breathes a sigh. ‘But Arthur. I question his sense  _and_  his manners.’  
  
‘He had a leader’s business to attend to.’  
  
‘Business.’ Rowena snorts. ‘Oh, yes, important matters like leaving me standing in the cold while you men had yet another stupid fight…’ Angrily, she wipes away tears with the corner of her cloak.  
  
‘It’s all finished now,’ Barth tells her. ‘A few broken heads, scores settled. Mark and Arthur shook hands and had a drink on it afterwards. All will be well.’  
  
Rowena shakes her head. ‘I do not think so.’  
  
‘You did right, to tell Arthur of our plans.’ Barth dares a consoling arm about her shoulders. ‘It’s always a pleasure to see Herrick’s schemes come unravelled.’  
  
‘It’s a still greater one to see that prick Herrick land on his arse in the pigshit.’  
  
For a moment, Barth isn’t sure he’s heard aright.  
  
‘And tonight, I’d like to see Arthur in there too.’ Her voice is low and venomous. ‘And I’d throw Kai in with him. And the pig can fuck them both…’ And now she is really crying, fierce angry sobs that shake her slender frame.  
  
Barth turns her around to face him; holds her close. ‘What is it? What has he done, to hurt you so?’  
  
She sniffs, and leans her head on his shoulder. ‘I waited for him, as he asked. And when they’d finished with their –  _leader’s business_  – I saw them come out, laughing and joking together… then Llud and the men went one way, and Arthur and Kai another… to the store hut.’  
  
‘To fetch more drink?’  
  
She shakes her head. ‘I thought that too. But they didn’t come out. And I was angry… it was clear Arthur had forgotten I was even here…’  
  
She looks up at Barth, her eyes shining with tears.  
  
‘I heard them,’ she whispers.  
  
‘Oh, Rowena.’ He’s heard the rumours, and he saw the way Arthur was devouring Kai with his eyes, after the foot-race… He pulls her closer, and he doesn’t mean to kiss her, but she turns her wet face up to his and somehow their mouths meet, and once they’ve started he doesn’t want to stop. She tastes of salt and honey, and her hair between his fingers is soft and fine.  
  
After a little while he pulls away. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’  
  
She snorts. ‘Why not? He thinks you and I did this yesterday anyway.’ Another bruising kiss. ‘I don’t care what he thinks. I don’t care if he thinks you fucked me. In fact… why  _don’t_  you fuck me? I don’t have many chances to get away from my father. And why should Arthur have all the fun, while I get none?’  
  
Barth has no answer to that. The mead and the fist-fight tonight have already stirred his blood, and to have this beautiful girl in his arms, all fire and fury, is enough to make any man lose his head. He runs his hands down her slender back; cups her shapely buttocks.  
  
She groans, and presses closer to him. ‘I know you want me. And I want you.’  
  
‘It’s… not that simple.’ He is trying to summon up the image of his girl back home, his Eilwyn, whom he will marry next spring.  
  
‘It’s  _very_  simple.’ Rowena takes his mouth in another desperate kiss.  
  
Eilwyn’s red hair and pretty smile are fading in his mind.  
  
‘I have my own guest hut, we won’t be disturbed…’  
  
Barth makes a last stand. ‘You don’t love me.’  
  
Rowena tosses her head. ‘Nor do you love me. That doesn’t matter. I’m not asking for love – I won’t be following you home making cow-eyes at you and expecting you to marry me. But you can’t deny’ – her small hand slides in between them, cupping his hardness – ‘ _this_.’  
  
Her touch is firm and surprisingly assured. A shudder runs through Barth’s body, and Eilwyn is forgotten.  
  
‘Oh, that’s good.’ Rowena’s breath is hot against his ear. ‘Big hard Cornish cock. That’s what I want. And you’re going to give it to me.’  
  
Barth cannot resist as she takes his arm and starts back towards the village gates.  
  
To the sentry, and the few folk still wandering about the yard, it must seem that he is decorously escorting her; but it is Rowena who is leading him, through the maze of alleyways to the guest quarters, where she dismisses her maidservant into the night with a curt word, and bars the door behind her.  
  
~~  
  
‘Strip.’  
  
Rowena stands with her back to the door, her breath coming fast and shallow as she looks at her handsome Cornish captive in the torchlight.  
  
‘Strip,’ she says again. ‘I want to see you naked.’  
  
Barth licks his lips, still uncertain. The flames flicker on his glossy black hair; Rowena feels a thrill of triumph, to have this man at her command. Even though he is the wrong man…  
  
‘Do it!’ Her voice is harsh. He flinches.  
  
‘Not so loud, Rowena,’ he pleads. ‘People will hear.’  
  
Exactly, she thinks. Damn him – damn  _them_  – I  _want_  them to hear. As I heard.  
  
She takes a step towards him. ‘I’ll help you,’ she says, lowering her voice just a little. ‘And you can help me. Here. Unfasten my dress, and I’ll take off your belt.’  
  
He takes a deep breath, and reaches behind her to un-knot the lacings at the back of her neck. ‘If you’re sure…’ he says, softly.  
  
But his mild sweetness only makes her the more angry, and she tears impatiently at his clothing, and then at her own. ‘Of course I’m sure,’ she snaps. ‘Are Cornish girls so feeble and shy, that you can’t tell when a woman wants a good humping?’  
  
He has no answer to that; simply takes off his own shirt and then lifts her dress over her head and lays it aside. ‘Beautiful,’ he murmurs, and lowers his mouth to her breast.  
  
A shiver runs through her, and she reaches down to touch his hardness again. If only she found Arthur so easy to arouse…  
  
 _‘The fight’s made you hard.’  
‘Not the fight. Well, not just the fight. You. It’s been driving me mad all day.’  
‘That open shirt worked, then?’  
‘Of course it bloody did. Stop laughing. You have no idea. Having to stand there and smile politely at Mark while your nipples were in the corner of my eye, mocking me…’  
‘Like this?’  
‘Yes, like that… Come here, you Saxon stallion. I want to suck them, not just look at them.’_  
  
Barth is reaching for her shift, but she stops him. ‘You first.’  
  
‘Very well.’ He sits down on the bench to take his boots off, then stands before her and undoes his belt: slowly, ostentatiously. Playing along with her game. She can read him like a book. Just like all men – out for what he can get, no matter that he surely has a girl at home.  
  
Just like all men.  
  
Except for Arthur.  
  
The belt falls to the floor, and Barth pulls his breeches down, and steps out of them.  
  
‘There,’ he says. ‘Now you.’  
  
‘In a moment. I want to look at you.’ She walks round him, as though inspecting one of her father’s prize stallions.  
  
He keeps his head up, though he is blushing under her scrutiny. His arse is firm and creamy-white; his cock juts out, straight and smooth, with a tangle of dark curls at its root. She wonders how Arthur’s compares; with a surge of jealous rage, she thinks of at least one other who could tell her.  
  
 _‘Kai. **Kai**! You’d better stop, or I’ll…’  
‘Don’t…  **want** … to stop.’  
‘Kneel for me, then. It won’t take long.’  
‘Oh, I think we can do better than that. There’s a pile of deerhides in this corner.’  
‘How long is it since you and I last fucked on a pile of skins in here?’  
‘Too long. Now shut up and get your breeches off or I won’t answer for the consequences.’_  
  
Barth shivers, and moves to cover himself with his hands, but she grips his wrists, to stop him.  
  
‘Say something,’ he begs.  
  
‘You wanted me to be quiet a minute ago.’  
  
‘Yes, but not silent.’ He reaches out to her, his dark eyes pleading. ‘What are you playing at? You said you wanted me. And here I am. Is – is something wrong? With me? Don’t you like what you see?’  
  
 _‘So big. And so damned beautiful. Never get tired of seeing that, never. Oh, my heart…’  
‘My Arthur. You certainly know how to bolster a man’s… pride.’  
‘Give me the oil. I want to put it on you.’  
‘I wouldn’t put your face  **there**  if I were you. I’ve done a lot of running today.’  
‘Don’t care. You’re delicious. Here, have some…’_  
  
‘Oh, I like it all right,’ she says, forcing her voice to a semblance of calmness. She runs a hand over him, possessively, feeling his skin quiver at her touch. ‘I like it very much. Nothing wrong with you. Nothing at all…’  
  
Abruptly she grasps the hem of her shift and pulls it off, flinging it aside. ‘There. Now we are equal again. And you – do you like what you see?’  
  
His handsome, guileless face tells her all she needs to know, even before he chokes out a breathless ‘Yes.’  
  
He offers no resistance as she takes his hand and leads him to the bed.  
  
‘Lie down for me,’ she says.  
  
Barth looks at her in surprise. ‘I thought –’  
  
‘You thought wrong.’ She bends over him; closes her mouth around one stiff nipple, licking and caressing, then nips sharply with her teeth, hearing his sharp gasp of pain. ‘I’m going to ride you,’ she tells him, her voice rising once more. ‘Ride you like one of my father’s horses. Hard and fast. The ride of your life.’  
  
‘Rowena, I’m not sure – listen, I know you’re angry, but don’t take it out on me.’ He grips her wrist, with infuriating gentleness. ‘I can give you a good time. And I will, if that’s what you want. But not like this…’  
  
She wrenches her hand away. ‘ _Yes_ , like this. This is what I want. This is how I like it.’ Her legs are astride his chest now, her slim thighs gripping him as though he were indeed a young stallion to be mastered. She revels in her own strength, her sure balance, her confidence. His breathing is ragged, his heartbeat thundering, and as she slides down his body she can feel his taut prick nudging against her buttocks. ‘I want you,’ she tells him. ‘I want you…’  
  
Not the whole truth. But he believes it; and he does not need to know the rest.  
  
 _‘That’s enough oil. Just lie down for me. Let me in, before I burst.’  
‘I’ve never known you so – eager. Come on, then. Come in to me, my love.’  
‘Give me a hand… Oh. Oh, fuck. Yes.  **Yes**.’  
‘Sssh. Someone might hear.’  
‘I don’t care. I… don’t…’  
‘Oh.  **Oh, Kai** …’  
‘Did that hurt?’  
‘No. Touch me. Don’t stop. Deeper, harder. I want you. I want all of you. I… want…’_  
  
Rowena lifts herself up, and moves to lower herself onto Barth’s erection.  
  
His eyes widen as he slides easily inside her. ‘That is – not hurting you?’  
  
‘No.’ She shakes her head; seats herself more comfortably. ‘Not at all.’  
  
She is wet already – has been, since she stood in the darkness outside the store-hut, indignant and hurt, and aroused almost beyond bearing by the sound of Arthur making love to another. Arthur and Kai. Unclothed and entwined. What a sight that must be…  
  
Almost, she was tempted to storm in through the door and demand to join them.  
  
But her courage failed her, so now she must make do with second-best, and take what small comfort and revenge she can.  
  
Barth heaves a sigh, and moves beneath her; pressing up into her. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he says softly. His dark eyes are wide with admiration. ‘And you’re –  _Oh_.’  
  
She flings back her head and laughs wildly at his sudden speechlessness; then tightens her muscles again, squeezing him mercilessly, catching him right where she knows the head of his prick must be.  
  
‘I am, aren’t I?’ she cries. ‘Not one of your milk-and-honey maidens. I’m a princess. I’m the best rider in the land. And not only of horses. Of men too…’  
  
‘Not so loud,’ he begs. ‘Rowena –’  
  
But she knows just how to silence him. She is riding him now, urging him on, heat kindling in her belly and slick wetness between her thighs. ‘Fuck me. Harder, faster. Come on, I can feel how hard you are.’  
  
His cock twitches inside her.  
  
‘Big and hard. And I’m going to make you harder. You’re going to come for me…’ She sees him lick his lips.  
  
He begins to thrust against her, and she keeps up a merciless rhythm, encouraging him all the while with a stream of ever more filthy words, until he can bear it no longer but chokes out her name and begins to come, taking her over the edge with him, sobbing and shouting.  
  
He no longer seems to care what a noise they are making.  
  
It is still not enough to drown out the voices in Rowena’s head.  
  
Afterwards he is very quiet. He tries to hold her in his arms, to comfort her, but she doesn’t want his pity; she wipes her eyes on the blanket and pushes him away.  
  
She hides her face in the mattress, and will not watch him leave.  
---


End file.
